As Thou Being Mine
by GirlquinndreameR
Summary: Ginny learns something about Draco and decides to use it to her advantage. She only expected a quick lesson in Shakespeare but she returned with something more...
1. Chapter 1: Locked

As Thou Being Mine

Author's jibberish: AGH! It's my first D/G chapter story. Please, don't knock me off my computer for my stupidity. I warn you, that Draco is slightly OOC, but not so much that he's singing "Oh, Virginia, how I love thee; let me count the ways!" If I ever make Draco spill that kind of filth, feel free to smack me across the head.

Chapter One: Locked

_            I know I received you last year for Christmas but I haven't really written. Let's just say I've had bad luck with diaries. More on that later, of course. Let me introduce myself._

_            My name is Ginny Weasley. Well, it's short for __Virginia__, but it's such a mouthful to say, especially when Mum would yell six other names to the breakfast table. I'm the youngest of six brothers. I'll introduce you to my family._

_Father: Arthur Weasley- works for the Ministry of Magic, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts._

_Mother: Molly- housewife, I suppose you call it. Also the best mum ever!_

_1st Brother: Bill- works for Gringotts Bank, __Cairo_

_2nd Brother: Charlie- works with dragons in __Romania___

_3rd brother: Percy- works in International Cooperation Department (rather boring, if you ask me…)_

_4th and 5th brothers: Fred and George (twins)-founders of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes (joke supplies)_

_6th brother: Ronald (Ron to everyone)- 7th year at Hogwarts. He is by far the closest to me_

_            The one who gave this to me was Ron's friend, Harry Potter. He has been mostly known for his survival against You-Know-Who. He's ambitious, courageous, warm-hearted…yes, there was a time when I liked him. However, it all passed, especially when I knew he fell in love…with his best friend no less, Hermione Granger._

_            She, he and Ron were such a trio. However, when Hermione and Harry fell for one another, it was hard to bear. But the one who took it the hardest was Ron. I think he did have a crush on Hermione too. But I knew my brother; he wouldn't be sad for long. Harry and Hermione have been dating since summer._

_            Anyway, no more introductions. The reason I'm writing is because of what happened today._

            Ginny Weasley was running. She woke up late, missed breakfast and realized she had double potions on this Friday. She had brought the wrong books so she ran back to Gryffindor Tower, got the right ones and then headed back on her path.

            Ginny slowed down as she arrived at Professor Snape's dungeon. 'Maybe he won't notice that I'm late…' She slowly and gently pushed the door open. She peered in and saw Snape had already begun lecture. She tiptoed into the room, careful not to make a sound.

            Her bag-strap ripped off. The heap fell to the floor with a loud, dusty thud.

            "You're 5 minutes late, Ms. Weasley," Snape sneered, still turned to the notes he was writing on the black board. "I think that calls for an hour detention here, starting at 7 o'clock tonight. Now find your seat…I'm sure you are capable of doing that, at least."

            Ginny's face colored. Sympathetic looks came from her fellow Gryffindor classmates. So much for not noticing…

            "Rotten luck," Ron frowned. 

            Ginny sighed. "I was late once! This is the first time; I've never received detention before." She turned to Ron. "What will I have to do? You must know. You must have received detention about 8,000 times."

            "Glad you keep track, Gin," Ron sarcastically praised. "It's Snape, so he'll probably make you do something horrid, like cleaning the desks with a toothbrush…or worse, a feather."

            "I'm doomed," Ginny groaned.

            The two ate together in the Great Hall until it was 10 minutes until 7. Ginny solemnly left, hoping the hour would run by quickly.

            She arrived in the dark, dank dungeon calling for the teacher. "Professor Snape. Hello?" The room was completely empty and only a few candles lit the room. She sat quietly at the first desk, nearest the teacher's desk. Lines of cauldrons decorated the room, with different colored vials as well. Ginny finally noticed the ingredients closet open.

            Slowly, she walked. "Professor?" As she entered, her foot hit something, causing a painful sensation to run up her leg. She looked down and realized that she must have knocked against that rock which was standing against the door. The stupid thing deserved a swift kick, so Ginny did just that, and was satisfied as the weak rock rolled several feet away.

            She continued farther in the closet until she stopped in her tracks.

            A young man, with slicked back silver-blonde locks, stood in his black school robes. His Slytherin crest was boldly displayed on his chest, along with his 'Head Boy' pin. He stood in the middle of racks of potion ingredients, looking down at the parchment he was writing on. He did look up and his steel eyes narrowed at her. "Well," he began, "look what we have here."

            "I just want to know where Professor Snape is," Ginny informed.

            "He'll be back soon. He told me someone would be serving detention; I didn't know it was you, Little Weasley."

            Wow, he certainly irked her! Draco Malfoy had been a thorn in Ron's side for years. At age 11, he was a snotty, rich, self-righteous prick and stomped around like he owned the place. Six years later, he was still snotty, rich and self-righteous. However, insults that used to be delivered daily slowed down. Ginny was wondering if he ran out of his witty supply.

            "I have a first name, Malfoy," Ginny said.

            "As do I, but everyone seems to forget that," Draco casually compared, scribbling his notes down.

            They were silent until she muttered a "Sorry. What are you doing?"

            "Inventory; teacher's aide duty," he pointed to a window near her. "Make yourself useful and let some air in."

            'Ginny, be a dear and open the window' she grimaced in her mind. She yanked the stiff window open and a breeze ran through…

            …and the door slammed shut. Draco's head snapped to the entry. He placed the parchment and quill down as he headed to the door. "What the hell happened? Did you move the rock?"

            Ginny stepped towards the door. She looked towards the floor. "W-what rock?" 'Pretend you don't know, Ginny, pretend you didn't kick the stupid thing…'

            "This," Draco's foot gestured to the all-to-familiar stone. "Just perfect. Now we're locked in."

            Locked in close quarters? With Malfoy? It can't be. "Why's that?"

            "Professor Snape put a special charm on this door. It locks every time it closes and only opens on his spell."

            "Why on earth would he do that?"

            "To prevent robberies."

            Ginny bit her lip, careful not to mention what Harry and Ron told her about Hermione taking ingredients their 2nd year as well as Dobby's gillyweed favor in the 4th year. She was also told by Harry that Barty Crouch Jr. used ingredients of the Polyjuice Potion to become Mad-Eye Moody.

            She took out her wand and pointed it to the doorknob. "Alohamora!" She tugged on the knob and the door remained stationary. She reluctantly turned to him. 

            "Are you done making a fool of yourself?" Draco asked, exasperated.

            She sighed, frustrated. "When will the Professor come back?" She watched him shrug. "So what do we do until then?"

            Draco smiled mischievously. He stepped up towards her. Startled, she backed up until her back was firmly pressed against the door. He placed both hands against the door on wither side of her shoulders. He was so very close to her. Not touching her, but he was close enough for her to feel his breath on her forehead and smell his light cologne. She was absolutely frozen, intoxicated by his mass over her. "I'm sure we could figure something to do," he moaned, "to amuse ourselves."

            Ginny gulped down the dry lump in her throat. "You…you wouldn't dare," she warned with blood, but her eyes were plastered with fear. She grew up with 6 brothers; she was far from flimsy or weak. But how long could she hold back the advances of Draco Malfoy?

            His smirk grew even wider. "You're right, I wouldn't. Don't flatter yourself, Weasley. It's unbecoming." He backed away and returned to his parchment and quill. 

            Relief washed over her. "It's not Weasley, it's Ginny."

            Draco shook his head. "I don't know, I can't call you that for some reason. Do you have another name?"

            "Well, my real name is Virginia," she told him. "It doesn't fit really--."

            "Virginia sounds noble, delicate and beautiful," Draco told her. Was that a compliment? "Ginny sounds silly and oafish…hm…You're right, Virginia doesn't fit you."

            Ginny felt like ringing his neck. "I forfeit," she mumbled. "I can't win a fight with you." Ginny crouched down and sat on the floor. "This is most definitely not my idea of detention."

            "Why is that? I thought you would look forward to seeing me so up close and personal," Draco teased. "Looking at me from afar doesn't do justice, if I do say so myself."

            Had he caught her looking at him during meals? It's not as if she was gawking at him or anything! Sometimes her eyes wandered and they fell upon him at the Slytherin Table. Her sight just happens to fall on him for no particular reason…at least, that's what she had been telling herself.

            Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were tied for the "Most Desirable Male" at Hogwarts. Harry was ambitious, courageous, and noble and caring, which gave him a boyish attraction and made him the image of the guy you want your folks to meet. Draco was clever, intelligent, with his Adonis qualities and smug demeanor; he was "the Bad Boy" that every girl wanted, whether they'll admit it or not. Wanting Draco was like a diabetic to chocolate; they knew it was not good for them.

            Ginny shook her head. "Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy. It's unbecoming."

            "Touché," he murmured.

            She sat, foot tapping in silence. Then, "Malfoy?" she called, looking up at him. No response. "Malfoy?" Was he ignoring her? "Bouncing ferret? Superficial git? Smug pest? Future Death-Eater?" she watched him wince. Did she just see that correctly? "Draco?"  
            "Yes?" he looked as if only giving her ½ his attention. 

            "If you're his aide, wouldn't you know his password?"

            "If I did, you wouldn't be sitting here, would you?"

            "No."

            "Is this your idea of small talk? If it is, your social skills are lacking."

            "Well, what's there to talk of?"

            "I don't care. The weather, your health…so long as it's not about sodding Potter," Draco sneered.

            So he was still sour about yesterday's game? After Harry's triumphant seeker catch, Gryffindor slaughtered Slytherin 220 to 60. The Gryffindor tower had a humongous bash about it and everyone stayed up late…much to Professor McGonagall's dismay. This morning, all her Gryffindor classmates were falling asleep in Potions class, much to Snape's threatening sneer.

            "Are you going home for the holidays?" she asked. There was a safe subject; Christmas break was about a month away.

            "Unfortunately, yes," he groaned. "My parents demand my return for this coming holiday."

            "Demand? You don't want to?"

            "Not all families are dimwittingly loving like the Weasleys," he said, tapping the jars of lacewing flies. "Some families are more about duty…and dignity."

            Ginny stood, straightening her skirt. "Dignity? You think serving You-Know-Who is dignified? That's horrible." 

            "So is stereotyping others," Draco counted off the vials of leeches. "All you Gryffindors think you read me correctly."

            "What are you playing at? You don't want to be a Death-Eater?"

            "The littlest Weasel can add…Bravo."

            "But you used to praise on how the Dark Lord will return and get us all!"

            Draco turned to her, annoyed. "Tell me, when was the last time I was singing choruses that the Dark Lord will kill all those who are impure?"

            Ginny thought for a moment. It's true; he hasn't been saying that…not since last year. But recently, it had been dark times. After Harry's battle in his 4th year, the ministry had done very little to protect the people. A year passed and then mysterious deaths and Dark Marks in the sky sent the Ministry into code red. People panicked and many Hogwarts graduates were immediately put into Auror training. Letters even came for Ron, telling him about the beneficial life choice of being an Auror. All he had to do was receive satisfactory marks on his N.E.W.T.'s. He was actually quite pleased and optimistic about passing his tests.

            "What changed?"

            He shrugged casually.

            "Does your father know?"

            "Yes, let's tell him. Then he'll get 'Avada' happy with his wand," Draco snorted. "It's like signing a death sentence if I say no."

            "It's a death sentence to join You-Know-Who," Ginny protested.

            "Well, then I'll perish either way," Draco replied slowly.

            Sympathy washed over her. She was grateful she and her loved ones were spared of Draco's insane sharp lip but now there must have been a cause. Sure, he didn't have a complete 180º change in personality but something must have caused him to be so indifferent about life.

            "You know, Draco, if you feel like talking or just venting out…I'll listen," she offered.

            He looked up at her. Before he could respond, the door creaked open and Professor Snape walked in. "What happened?" he asked.

            "A strong wind shut the door close, Professor," Draco answered.

            Snape's eyes turned to Ginny, who was standing close by. "And what are you doing here?"

            "I came about here; I thought it was you inside," She explained. "Then the door closed."

            Snape's eyes turned to Draco. He nodded, agreeing with her story. "Very well," he handed her a dirty brown baby toothbrush. "Ms. Weasley, clean the cauldrons against the wall."

            Reluctantly with a sour face, she took the brush and headed to the main classroom. Draco watched as Ginny walked away, out of sight. 

            "How much do you have left, Malfoy?"

            Draco's eyes turned to his teacher. "Oh…over that last shelf, against the far wall."

            "Very well," Snape picked up the rock and dropped it, blocking the door's path of closing. He left Draco by himself to finish his duties. Draco finished within the hour. Stealing one last glance at the red-head, he left for the Slytherin common room. It would not be the last he saw of her.

…~*to be continued*~…


	2. Chapter 2: Haunted

As Thou Being Mine

Author's jibberish: Geez, this is scary territory…a chapter fic with these kids…

This story is dedicated to my sister, Xiaoyu Ling, cuz I fear her ass-kicking… =)

Chapter 2: Haunted

_            Last night's aide work was simple. Professor Snape told me to take inventory for all his potions ingredients. It was supposed to take me yesterday and today but since I finished it, I'll have nothing to do today._

_            Yesterday, the littlest Weasley was serving detention with Professor Snape. We were locked in the potions closet for a while. The strangest thing happened: I told her I didn't care to be a Death-eater…not in those exact words. In any case, she offered to be a bloody counselor and tell her my problems. I am not a sorry case, I refuse to be! She probably wants to "share my feelings" and other rubbish. She got me thinking…_

_            …Which was probably why I dreamt of her last night. I was in bed, alone in my Head-Boy room, when I was stirred by this light. I woke and saw her, sitting at the foot of my bed. She was dressed in a white nightgown that ended at her calves. Personally, it intensified the color of her red hair. In any case, there she was, staring at me. I demanded to know why she was there._

_            "It was willed," was her answer._

_            Now, isn't that vague beyond all types of logical reason?_

_            "Who willed it?" I hissed._

_            "Why must you question? Not everything has reasons to explain."_

_            "Well, there must be a reason to why I'm seeing you of all people."_

_            She just gave me a smile…like a child to her little dolly._

_            And that's when I woke up._

            Draco Malfoy did not have a pleasant morning. He pondered and pondered until his brain was going to spill out of his ears. What was the cause of Draco to see little Ginny Weasley in his dream?

            He watched her from under his lashes. She was dressed in her Gryffindor school robes. Her hair was gathered in a ponytail, creating a 4-inch tail coming out the back of her head. No accessories, no make-up… she looked so simple. Sure, Dream-Ginny didn't wear any extra colors to her face but her hair was loosely flowing and she seemed to have a type of glow to her. She could clean up well, if she tried…

            _Great, Draco sneered, __you're thinking Little Weasley as slightly desirable… He didn't feel like eating anymore and decided to walk somewhere…away…far, far away._

            "Malfoy," Crabbe asked. "Hold a minute--."

            Draco was already gone.

            "What's with him?" Goyle asked.

            Crabbe shrugged.

            Draco wandered until he spotted two familiar people sitting on a windowsill in the hallway towards the North Tower.

            Hermione Granger, Head-Girl, and her boyfriend, famous Harry Potter, were enjoying the morning together. 

            "'My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love is deep. The more I give to thee'," Hermione smiled to the boy who was attentive to her every word, "'the more I have, for both are infinitive'."

            Urgh, she was reading a book to him. And not just any book: Romeo and Juliet. She was reading from the famous balcony scene, right after the couple decided to marry.

            "Is this boring you, Harry?" Hermione asked. 

            Harry shook his head and reached out, taking her hand in his own. He rubbed his thumb slowly against her knuckles. "I like hearing your voice. It's comforting."

            If Draco actually ate anything, he'd vomit. He vowed to never read Shakespeare again. He turned away, and headed to the library. 

            The library, untraditionally for a Saturday, was nearly packed. All the front seats were taken and the side tables near the windows were full as well. The occupants were mostly wrapped in red and gold scarves. Did someone assign a dreadful essay to the Gryffindors? It almost made Draco laugh.

            He found an empty 6-seater table near the very back of the library. It was near a cold wall that was surrounded by shelves of books. It was a rather secluded spot. "Perfect," he muttered. The last thing he needed was to be bugged…by a certain red-head. He flopped down at the table's head. 

            And speak of the Devil, the moment he looked up, the red-head in question sat at his table, two seats away. She was so immersed in the book in her hands; she didn't notice her table partner. When Ginny looked up, she saw Draco giving her a death glare. Just when he thought he got away, she showed up…

            "Everywhere else is full," she reasoned.

            "I know," he snapped. But why did she sit here with him? Did she really have to read her book here? And why wasn't she enjoying her day off? _She's becoming like Granger, he joked silently. His eyes turned to the book's spine. In thin letters, it read 'Romeo and Juliet'. Draco rolled his eyes. _Even more like Granger than I thought_. "Will I ever get away from bloody Romeo and sodding Juliet?" he bit. _

            Astounded, she looked up at him. "If you don't like my literature taste, you aren't forced to look at it."

            "Nevermind," he grumbled, resting his chin against his fist.

            "How did you know Romeo and Juliet? I thought you shun everything of Muggles," Ginny asked.

            He looked at her for a moment and then his eyes turned away as he said, "My mother."

            She didn't quite understand, so she moved to the seat right beside him. "Sorry?"

            "My mother would read to me when I was young: poetry, sonnets, plays; wizard and non-wizard types alike. She stopped around the time I was eight."

            "Why?" she asked but the look he gave her told her not to push it. She could only guess why anything happened in his life: Lucius, his father. "Does she have the books still?"

            "No," he admitted. "I have them. I take them with me to school…and read them when I need to be accompanied with some sort of intelligence."

            He must have had a lack due to Crabbe and Goyle. Ginny stifled a giggle. "So you've read this play?"

            Draco leaned towards her, locking his eyes with hers. In a lowered voice, he said, "'Beauty too rich for use, for earth to dear. So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows as yonder lady over her fellows shows. The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand. And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand. Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I never saw true beauty till this night'…"

            Ginny felt herself flush as she froze, locked in Draco's gaze. Her surroundings went totally dim and she could only hear his voice as if it was melting any sort of reaction. She couldn't move as they gazed at each other for a few more moments. 

            She snapped out of her trance-like state when Draco sat up straight again, moving away from her. "Act 1, Scene 5, when Romeo sees Juliet at the feast."

            Hurrying, she fumbled to that section and found Romeo's quote. "Oh…" she gulped, hoping her blush wasn't noticeable. "You have a good memory."

            "I've read it about 10 or so odd times already," he told her. Although now, he's not quite sure if he would again, seeing that the dream couple was having a mushy moment with one of his favorite plays.

            "I myself have only read some Shakespeare plays," Ginny said. "I've read some Jane Austen work as well. I wish there was a better selection here."

            "Shame, Weasley, really," Draco stood up. He knew she was trying to make small talk. He knew he must leave quickly; he was beginning to flashback to his dream.

            "It's Ginny," she corrected.

            "Whatever," Draco said over his shoulder as he walked away. He took a backward glance and saw Ginny look towards the table. He grimaced inwardly as she slammed the book shut and leaned back, refusing to read.

            It was going to be a long weekend. _Let's just hope she doesn't pop out of nowhere…_

            But she did. It was within a few nights that Draco had another dream. It seemed to continue off the previous. She sat there peacefully, lovely as a rose, smiling at him. 

            She crawled towards his lying form and titled her head to one side. "You worry?"

            "You're still here?" Draco couldn't believe it. "Will I ever get away from you?"

            She leaned closer to his face, her red bangs brushing against his forehead. He sat rigid for a few moments, staring into her coffee colored eyes. Their mouths were a mere 2 inches from each other as she smiled again. "You have no idea…do you?"

            "About what?" She was getting annoying, Draco thought.

            "Everything," she said, pulling herself away. She scooted to the edge of the bed, her legs dangling over the side.

            "That's it?" Draco hissed. "That's all you have to say to me?"

            And a chill ran down Draco's back as her head slowly turned to him, that same girlish smile on her mouth. "What satisfaction can you have tonight?"

            Before his features moved, he saw his Slytherin green drapes hanging on his four-post bed. He had just woken from his dream. He took a deep breath. That Weasley girl has a strange haunting presence in his dream; getting annoying really.

            "What satisfaction can you have tonight?" he muttered to himself, repeating what she said.

            He yanked the black sheets away from his body, revealing his silk forest green pajama pants. With only the light of candles, he opened his trunk and opened the compartment right under the hood. About 20 pocketbooks were stacked up and lying in front of him.

            Why did her phrase ring a bell in his head? Why did it sound like he heard it before? Draco pulled out the book _Great Expectations_. "That can't be right…" he placed it on the floor, beside him. _The Lord of the Rings…definitely not. __The __Canterbury__ Tales…no._

            He decided to skim through the Shakespeare plays. He started with _Much Ado about Nothing and was ½ way through __Hamlet when his eyes fell upon his copy of Romeo and Juliet._

            "You've got to be kidding," he tossed _Hamlet _aside. He picked up _Romeo and Juliet_ and brought it with him to bed. He opened up to the first act and carefully read through it. His eyes narrowed as he came to a line in Act 2, Scene 2.

            _Juliet: What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?_

            Dream-Ginny said a line of Juliet. Why that character of all people and why this play?

            _My only love sprung from my only hate…_

            Draco felt like vomiting. Without giving it another thought, he shut the book, put it on his nightstand and tried to get some sleep.

            Later, he stayed up and found himself re-reading the play.

…~*to be continued*~…

Author's jibberish: Check my website…got a pix for this chapter…

Many thanks to Mr. William Shakespeare as well…he's so cool =D


	3. Chapter 3: Learned

As Thou Being Mine

Author's jibberish: Xiaoyu Ling, wipe your drool. Draco shirtless and only in pants isn't all th--, well…fine, just don't drool on our keyboard. It may short-circuit. Anyway, sorry everyone; our computer had a major virus in it. Now, all is well. Here we go…

Chapter Three: Learned

_            I didn't know reading Shakespeare could be so difficult. When I first read Macbeth, Percy was around to help me a lot. Comprehending is a difficult task. Well, it's not like Ron could help me. Hermione is too frantic about her practice NEWTs coming before Christmas; I don't want to bother her. I don't want to bother Harry either._

_            Today, though, I did have an idea on who to ask. It's crazy, I know, but you have to understand. See, it all came to me during breakfast in the Great Hall…_

            "We need to get full marks!"  
            "Mione," Harry sighed, "if we constantly study like this, I may not be able to remember all this."

            "Besides, it's only a practice," Ron said, grabbing a muffin. He offered it to Ginny, who was beside him. 

            "You both will be very sorry…" Hermione huffed. "You should study. It is good for you."

            "You make it sound like medicine, Head Girl," Ron teased. "Besides, Harry and I have other stuff to worry about."

            "Such as?"

            "Quidditch, of course!" Ron exclaimed, "which, I may say, is way more important that the NEWTs! Their new 'Captain Malfoy' has been making them do double practice," Ron growled. "I couldn't live with myself if we lose to that prat."

            Ginny's eyes turned to the mentioned prat. She was ½ listening to Ron when her eyes found that blonde sitting in the Slytherin table. To her utter amazement, his eyes were on her as well. She thought she was imagining it. Was he staring at her?

            Draco stood and walked away, out of the Great Hall. Had she known she was haunting him in his sleep? Has she figured out that he's been trying to get away from her but at the same time observe her? Did she have any idea that his internal struggle was allowing him only four hours of sleep?

            Of course not. She was curious with the fact that he was staring at her. She put her muffin down and turned to Ron. He and Hermione were arguing about priorities, with Harry being mediator. She was sure they wouldn't notice, so she left, in search of her 'watcher'.

            It didn't take a long time before she found him. She was passing through the hall that led to the main doors when she passed the window with the lake view. She saw a dark black spot amongst the snow and frozen lake scene. She came outside into the cold, wrapping her scarf tighter around her neck. 

            Draco stood about the ½ way point, right between the castle and the lake. His hands were buried in his pockets, but he didn't hunch down from the cold. He stood tall, poise, and stared off into the horizon. She watched as he let out a sigh. Was he tired? Annoyed? Stressed? What was he thinking about?

            "Well then I'll perish either way…"

            What happened to him? He used to boast until he got blue in the face. Why did he become so reclusive and quiet? He remained with his companions, Crabbe and Goyle, but the whole school could see Draco's change…of course, every now and then, he had a snide little remark to say, which made everyone think the world was normal. But when Ginny looked at him in the library, when he recited Romeo's line, malice was absent from his eyes. Could it all have been due to his father? Well, Ginny could only think of one thing to do. She bundled a fistful of snow…

            …and threw it at him. The snow projectile hit him at the back of his shoulder. He grunted and turned, "What the--!" When he saw it was Ginny standing behind him, he almost froze. His vision immediately darted to the land. "What are you doing here, Little Weasley?"

            "I saw you here." Would he admit to staring at her if she asked? Probably not. She realized he was turned away from her. She took the liberty to fling more snow at him.

            He brushed the snow off his sleeve, looking rather annoyed. "Do I look like a damn bull's-eye to you?"

            She just shrugged. She felt sorry for him; so many things for him to worry about. Ginny hoped he'd loosen up. Ginny threw more.

            "You're annoying me," he growled.

            "And you're not looking at me when you talk," Ginny stepped close to him. "Are snowball fights too juvenile for you, Draco?" she asked, extending his name.

            Right before she threw her next one, she was bombarded with 2 snowballs. She staggered back slightly as they hit her on her shoulder. "Is that all you got, Draco? You throw worse than Percy!"

            His annoyance must have magnified. "Be careful what you say, Weasley."

            Another snowball. "It's Ginny, Draco!"

            "My refined mouth can't say such a clumsy name!" he excused, throwing 2 large snowballs at her.

            "Is that all, Draco?" Ginny pushed. "My grandmother is better at this!"

            "That's it!" Draco exclaimed, firing a frenzy of snow at her.

            She squealed, trying to maintain the same speed as Draco. Ginny did catch up rather quickly; it must have been all that practice against Fred, George, and Ron. Before long, Draco and Ginny were pink in the face. They were taking in heavy breaths. Draco's bangs were falling across his face and ½ of Ginny's strands managed to find its way out of her black scrunchie. "Give up yet?" she breathed.

            She was answered with another attack. Ginny responded equally with more ammunition. In a fury of flying snow, Draco got close enough in possession of her arms. Ginny squealed in laughter and curled up, falling down, bringing Draco with her. She was on her back, trying to push handfuls of snow at Draco as he squatted over her, pouring snow on her head.

            Eventually, she grew tired and took a breather; he did as well. He held himself above her, supporting his weight on his hands and knees. "Now do you give up?" he breathed.

            She shook her head, shaking her hair free of snow and her scrunchie. She propped herself up on her elbows, elevating her upper torso. "Call it a draw for now, Draco."

            He nodded. "Alright, Weas--," he cut himself off. "Vir--."

            "Ginny!" Ron's voice rang through the air. They both turned and saw Ron running towards them clumsily at mad speed, followed by a worried Harry and Hermione.

            "Oh great," Draco grumbled. He stood just as Ron got to them.

            Ron grabbed Ginny by the arm and pulled her up. "Gin, are you alright? Did he hurt you? Did he even touch you?"

            "Ron--," Ginny started.

            "And you!" Ron growled to Draco. "What the hell were you doing to my sister, Malfoy?!"

            "I think it's pretty obvious, Weasley," he smirked. 

            "I'll rip your lungs out!" Ron tried jumping at Draco, but was heavily restrained by his best friends. 

            "Ron, cool it!" Ginny ordered. "We were just having a snowball fight. That's all!"

            "Yes, Weasley, that's all," Draco snickered. "Honestly, what were you thinking?" he took one more glance at Ginny before he walked off.

            "Ginny," Harry asked hesitantly, "were you seeking out Malfoy?"

            "Not particularly," Ginny shrugged. Should she tell them about how she caught him staring at her and followed him for that reason? Should she say that she's noticed a slight change in Draco Malfoy and was extremely curious? "He was giving me a hard time in detention last week. It was payback."

            Ron raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"

            "Of course. What else would there be?" Ginny hooked her strands behind her ear, finally realizing her hair was free of its hair-tie. "Can you help me look for me scrunchie?" she asked them.

            Ginny must have read this scene 3 times. She was still reading the play _Romeo and Juliet. She was at one of the most important scenes: Act 2, Scene 2: the Balcony scene. She wanted to understand every bit. However, she was at a loss._

            When she was reading Macbeth, Percy would explain everything to her, making her reading even more enjoyable. Now, it was all just a jumble of poetry.

            Who could she turn to in her own house at this time of need? When Hermione was on study-mode, she was quite scary…poor Harry, having to deal with that. Ron was absolutely out of the question. 

            Who did she know that could understand Shakespeare for the art it was?

            Her thoughts immediately recalled a 17 year old blond Slytherin, who just happened to be Head Boy. Ginny almost mentally punched herself. Well, he did admit having a passion for great literature, Shakespeare being one of them. But he wouldn't possibly agree to help her.

            As much as she fought the concept, she found herself watching Draco during dinner, looking for the right time to ask. She kept constant watch over him, like a hawk. It wasn't long before he noticed. He uncomfortably turned around, hoping she was looking at a spot on the wall behind him. When he realized that she was still staring directly at him, he got up and left. Ginny grabbed her book and walked after him.

            She assumed he ran back to his head Boy chambers. As she turned on the first right corner, she felt something tug on her arm. She was about to scream in freight but that something also clamped his hand over her mouth. The panic in Ginny's eyes faded as they locked with Draco's. "The last thing I need is a stalker," he said. He pulled his hand away.

            "I'm not here to stalk you," Ginny said.

            "Then why must your eyes be fixated on me? I know I'm unbearably handsome--."

            "Get over yourself," Ginny rolled her eyes. "I just need to talk to you."

            "About what?"

            "This," she showed him the book in her hand. 

            His jaw tightened. "You want to have a book club, starting on Romeo and Juliet? Twelve year olds do that."

            "Not exactly," she said. "I want you to help me translate, rather, interpret some of the scenes."

            "Why? It's in English."

            "Poetic English. It's an Elizabethian style play…there are a lot of his wordplay I don't understand."

            "And you want me to waste my time helping you?" Draco released her wrist. "You have horrible timing. I have Quidditch, Head Boy duties, and NEWTs to study for."

            "I could help you," Ginny offered. "I could help you study."

            Draco snorted. "You got to do a lot better than that," he turned and walked away.

            Suddenly, Ginny was struck with a brilliant idea. "I'll tell a younger Slytherin about what you told me in Snape's closet."

            That made him stop in his tracks. "What?"

            "Rumors spread like water here in Hogwarts," Ginny explained. "I'll tell one 1st year Slytherin and it'll spread through your house by morning. Some may even tell their parents and--."

            It worked too well. Draco stomped towards her, eyes furious. "You wouldn't dare," he threatened.

            Of course she wouldn't but he didn't know that. "Wouldn't I?" she retaliated.

            Draco stepped back and gazed at her as if analyzing the whole situation. "And if I agree? Will you finally stay out of my life?"

            'Finally'? What was he talking about? "Um…yes."

            He took a deep breath and then turned around. Draco took about 5 steps before he looked over his shoulder. "Well? I haven't got all night."

            Ginny assumed that meant a yes. She followed him. "Where do you want to read?" she asked.

            "My room."

            She stopped. "Your room?"

            "Yes, what are you, deaf?" Draco headed down the hall past the 2nd corridor. "You think I want anyone spotting our rendezvous? If we were at the library, someone would be bound to see us together."

            "Yes," Ginny sneered, her shoulders tensing. "Heaven forbid we're seen together in public."

            "Precisely." Draco approached an ebony door with an oak sign in dark lettering:

            HEAD BOY: DRACO MALFOY

            She recalled Percy's name on the door the year he took the Head Boy position. Ginny even remembered he made sure everyday that no stains or dust were on his name sign. He muttered his password and the door creaked open. Inside, the drapes of the windows and bedposts were Slytherin green. His bed was decorated with black sheets and silver and white pillows. Even the area rugs on the floor were green with silver vine designs. The fire was roaring, with two high-back, black, suede chairs in front of it. Candelabras stood like trees, branching out into 6 candles on each stand. The door near the fireplace, she guessed, was the entry to the bathroom. She was in Draco's chambers.

            'What is your problem? I know I raised you better!' Ron would probably say…which made no sense since he was only a year older than her.

            "Go on, sit," he said, gesturing to the suede chairs. She quietly sat and placed the book on her lap. Beside her was a small table with a purple skull centerpiece. Curiously, her hand moved towards the skull.

            "I wouldn't," he warned, crouching in front of his trunk. 

            "Why? It's just a skull, right?" Ginny asked.

            He shrugged. "Alright, it's your hand." He opened up his copy of the book and flopped down on the chair across her. "Let's get this over with."

            "Draco, the least you could do is be pleasant about this," Ginny lightly scolded. "After all, we will be talking for a while."

            "Do tell me what's pleasant of your blackmailing scheme," Draco glared, "I never knew a Weasley had it in them. You amaze me, Red."

            "Ginny."

            "So?"

            Ginny sighed. "Alright…" she fanned through the pages. "I understand the first act clearly enough."

            "Why do you need my help?"

            "I want to fully understand the second scene of Act 2," she said.

            "Ah, yes, the balcony scene," Draco scoffed. He couldn't escape his fate, could he? His world, dream-like or not, would always return to that damn scene. 

            "What is he trying to say in Romeo's first line? 'It is the East and Juliet is the sun. Arise fair sun and kill the envious moon…' That whole part?"

            These lessons would be dreadfully dull. "Did you notice the constant mentions of the moon? The moon is Rosaline, because she is so cold to Romeo. The sun is Juliet because she brings warmth and light to his pathetic love life."

            Ginny nodded. "Ok…" Romeo is pathetic? Hardly. "Um…could we read out the scene?"

            Draco looked at her with an unmistakable dread. "What?"

            "Can we read the lines and discuss it afterwards…You know, after every page," Ginny suggested. "Percy used to teach me that way and it helped a lot."

            "Well, I'm not your brother Peter or whatever," Draco snapped. "Thank god."

            Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Oh Ms. Parkinson, did you hear about Malfoy? He dreads anything that has to do with his father's master."

            Draco took a deep breath. Sneaky little… "'She speaks. Oh, speak again bright angel'," he began.

            They ran through the lines, stopping at every 30 lines for deeper explanation.

            "'Goodnight, goodnight'," Ginny read. "'As sweet repose and rest come to thy heart as that within my breast'."

            Draco winced. He knew what was coming. "'Oh wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?'"

            "'What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?'" she read, not knowing her words sent chills down his spine.

            He couldn't help looking at her, trying to shun any thought relating to his dream. Her fire-red hair, her freckled nose so close against his, those damn brown eyes and those cursed lips! She doesn't look anything like Dream Ginny! She was so much more enchanting in her white nightgown…and on his bed, compared to now. Faded, oversize Gryffindor robes, scuffed dusty black shoes, and terribly limp hair…which was usually pulled back. That matter was taken care of. Draco looked back to his line. 

            "'The exchange of thy love's faithful vow of mine'," he managed to say without gritting his teeth. He looked up at her. 

            "So," Ginny queried, "he admitted true love for her?"

            "More than that," Draco corrected. "He asked her to marry him."

            "Oh…it said earlier she was of age to marry," Ginny smiled. "That's, what, 18?"

            "14."

            Her eyes widened. "Oh."

            They finished the scene, and Draco closed his leather-bound cover. Ginny closed her faded paperback. "So, the next day, they'll finalize everything."

            "Yes." He saw the frown appearing on her face. "What's wrong?"

            "I don't know. It just seems all too sudden," Ginny explained. "This is all love at first sight."

            "Why? Do you believe there is no such thing?"

            "What about you?"

            Draco sneered. "Why should I answer?"

            "Then why should I?" Ginny responded curtly.

            "Fine, don't answer."

            "Fine!"

            "Fine."

            With their arms crossed, they sat back and stared into the fire. She sighed heavily. "I don't believe in love at first sight."

            "Sorry?" he side-glanced at her.

            "I don't believe in love at first sight," she said, more of her voice behind it.

            "Are you talking of personal experience--."

            "No!" she snapped.

            He raised an eyebrow in interest. His eyes returned to the fire. "Sometimes, things happen and you get caught up in the moment…and you don't think about the aftermath…until it's too late."

            Ginny looked up at him. She almost gasped. The look in his eyes was in a deep daze, as if his thoughts were far, far away. "Are you talking of personal experience?"

            Draco just stood and casually tossed the book in his open trunk. "Are we done?"

            Ginny stood. "For tonight. I'll owl you if I run to any more trouble with Mr. Shakespeare."

            "Suit yourself," Draco escaped into the bathroom.

            Ginny moved the opposite way, showing herself to the door. 

            Draco received an owl the next morning.

~*to be continued*~

Many thanks again to William Shakespeare and Cliff's Notes


	4. Chapter 4: Scared

As Thou Being Mine

Author's jibberish: You're back? I'm glad =D Oh, things are going to get interesting…

Chapter 4: Scared

            _Who knew Weasleys could be so manipulative? Well, the day started out as normal. I received a letter from my mother, saying the usual 'How are you', 'Please eat; the last time I saw you, you were paler and thin…the usual. Do well on your practice NEWTs. Study hard. Love Mother.' The only irony is that a candle has more warmth…but I don't blame her. Not one bit…_

_            Back to Little Red, she sent me owls every day and came to my room for help. Within a few days, she managed to finish Romeo and Juliet; I think she rather enjoyed it._

_            Recently, she just comes over while I'm studying and she sits quietly, reading. Her new mission is _Les Miserables_…good luck. It took me three weeks to finish that…and I was 14. I'm not sure if she has the same intellectual capacity I'm blessed with. After all, she does share blood with Potter's friend…_

_            Anyway, it's been 2 weeks since she's been coming over. Every day at __6:30__ she would arrive and she would leave at _8 o'clock___ right before curfew. It's getting to be routine…_

            Ginny let out a loud yawn and sat back against the chair. 

            Draco, sitting on his bed, rolled his eyes. _Well that was ladylike…_ Why did she keep coming over? And furthermore, why did he allow her to? Was it all just blackmail? He couldn't think of a better reason. "Don't fall asleep here," he ordered her as he finished his astronomy reading. 

            "My eyes just hurt, that's all," Ginny stood and headed to his trunk. By pure habit, he kept his book compartment of his trunk unlocked. She had asked everyday to see his collection and it became so aggravating and bothersome, he let her read his books during her visits. 

            Ginny grasped a black cloth covered book. "'Edgar Allan Poe'… who is this?"

            Draco closed his text. "He was an American writer in the late 19th century."

            "Not only was he a muggle but American," Ginny simulated shock. "You never seize to amaze me. What did he write?"

            "Mostly short stories and poetry," he said, grasping the book from her. He flipped through the pages until he found something to show her. "Here, read this."

            She shook her head. "Can't. My eyes hurt too much. Read it to me, please." Ginny settled on the floor, beside his bed, resting her head against it.

            "Are you that lazy?"

            She nodded, smiling.

            He shook his head. "All right, all right…

_It was many and many a year ago_

_In a kingdom by the sea_

_That a maiden there lived, whom you may know_

_By the name of Annabelle Lee_

_And this maiden she lived with no other thought _

_Than to love and be loved by me.___

_I was a child and she was a child_

_In this kingdom by the sea_

_But we loved with a love that was more than love_

_I and my Annabelle Lee_

_With a love that winged seraphs of Heaven_

_Coveted her and me_

_This was the reason that, long ago_

_In this kingdom by the sea_

_That the winds came out of a cloud, chilling_

_My beautiful Annabelle Lee_

_So that her highborn kinsmen came _

_And bore her away from me,_

_To shut her up in a sepulcher_

_In this kingdom by the sea_

_The Angels, half so happy in Heaven,_

_Went envying her and me_

_Yes! That was the reason (as all men know_

_In this kingdom by the sea)_

_That a wind came out of a cloud by night_

_Chilling and killing my Annabelle Lee.___

_But our love, it was stronger by far than the love_

_Of those who were older than we,_

_Of many far wiser than we_

_And neither the Angels in Heaven above _

_Nor the demons down under the sea_

_Could never dissever my soul from the soul _

_Of the beautiful Annabelle Lee.___

_For the moon never beams without giving me dreams_

_Of the beautiful Annabelle Lee._

_And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes_

_Of my beautiful Annabelle Lee.___

_And so, all the nighttide, I lie down by the side_

_Of my darling! My darling, my life and my bride._

_In her sepulchre, there by the sea,_

_In her tomb, by the sounding sea.___

            He looked down and narrowed his eyes. Ginny's long brown lashes were shut. "Hey Red," he tapped her shoulder. Another touch on the shoulder and "Wake up!" But instead, she began to fall forward, face heading towards the floor Draco dove after her. He fell on his back, grasping her at shoulder length, feet straight up in the air. "Damn it…" he gently guided her head against the bed. "I told you not to sleep here."

            Now what? He could go across the hall and ask Granger to take her. Then he could make up a dumb "I found her like this" story. That seemed like the best thing. 

Draco crouched down and allowed her back to fall against his arm. Then, he used his other arm to scoop her up. He got on his feel and staggered a bit, wondering how her 5'2" figure was heavier than she looked. She was skinny and her chest wasn't noticeably big…maybe it was her hips…

With staggering difficulty, he exited his room and knocked on the door across the hall that read:

HEAD GIRL: HERMIONE GRANGER

He must have knocked 8 times before he gave up. The girl was sleeping, studying or tongue-wrestling with Potter. Before he accompanied that thought with any visuals, he returned to his own room.

He was in no mood to go all the way to Gryffindor tower and a) leave her at the portrait hole, for it wasn't very gentleman-like, or b) run into Weasley who'll not listen to reason. 

Draco gave a swift kick of the door and it shut behind him. He placed her down on top of his bed. Fearing she may dirty up his sheets, he took off her shoes and placed them at the foot of the bed. What Draco wouldn't have given for a house-elf at that moment.

He left her alone on his bed and she slept, undisturbed.

It was now morning. A newly showered Draco pulled on a white undershirt and boxers. He also pulled on his black pants. It was 6:30, a typical time for his morning to start. He flung his towel over his shoulder and immerged from the bathroom.

Ginny was already stirring. Quickly, he pulled on his white collared shirt and robes. When she finally opened her eyes, she remained in bed, on her back. Slowly, she sat up and threw her legs over the edge of the bed.

"Awake now?" Draco asked.

"Why am I still here?" she asked.

"You fell asleep here last night. I moved you upon my bed."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. "You didn't…did you…"

"That would make your morning, wouldn't it?" he teased. "Start the day off knowing I slept with you." He watched her face burn white and he smirked. "You're gullible."

"So, then, where did you sleep?"

He didn't. He had been pre-occupying himself for the past 10 years, ignoring the fact that a girl was sleeping his bed. He must have dusted each item in his room about 5 times and accomplished studying for classes. He had remembered the potion index A through M, and read the extended version of Quidditch Through the Ages. All the anxiety for the femme Weasley?

Yes, Draco's subconscious snickered. He was 17 after all.

"Why didn't you bring me to Hermione?" Ginny suggested.

"I did. She wouldn't answer."

"Well, what about taking me to my common room?"

"You're heavy," he excused. 

"And what about a levitation spell? It's loads easier."

Now why didn't that cross his mind? "Yes, float you across the castle, and with your violent-compulsive brother…I'd rather give Crabbe a pedicure."

Ginny smiled. "If I didn't know any better, Draco, I'd say you wanted me to stay."

He rolled his eyes. "Rubbish. Now, hurry up and get out."

Ginny slipped her shoes on. She headed for the door that he held opened. "So, I'll see you tonight?"

He just closed the door behind her, not bothering to answer her. Of course she'd come over tonight. By now, it was natural. She'd arrive after dinner and they would mind their own business, unless she had a question about the literature she was reading. Draco laced on his shoes. He was beginning to be comfortable around her. 

It was the one week countdown until the practice NEWTs. Hermione was looking pale at the breakfast table and Harry was massaging her left hand.

Ginny sat beside Ron at the breakfast table. "Morning."

"Not so loud," Ron told her. "Hermione can't take loud sounds."

"Why?"

"Because of the P.N.'s," Ron whispered. "Don't even mention the 'C' word."

"Why not? Is she spastic about the practice NEWTs?" Ginny asked.

That was a big mistake. Ron and Harry went wide-eyed the same moment Hermione slammed her hands on the table. Utensils and plates jumped. 

Hermione took a deep breath before she exploded. "We have exactly 7 days, 2 hours, 22 minutes and 52 seconds until our practice NEWTs! You fell asleep in class yesterday Harry! And you started drooling on your notes Ron! What if that portion is on the test--?"

"Shh, Mione," Harry rubbed circles on her back with his palm. "Here, drink, please."

Hermione took a large gulp of her juice.

"I take it she won't stop for another 15 minutes," Ron guessed. "Got to say, Harry, you gotta have real inner strength to take all this."

"What do you mean by that?" she snapped.

"Uh…" Ron looked at Harry, looking for an answer.

"The Practice test," Ginny offered. "And also being Quidditch captain. Merlin knows how Charlie did it all…"

"Oh…" Hermione sighed. "Does that mean we shouldn't see each other Harry? I'm causing more stress to your life, aren't I? Oh, why didn't you tell me? What, with all the games, and the classes you doze in, and you're probably losing sleep because, well, um--."

"Why would he be losing sleep?" Ron inquired.

"It must be horrible also with--," she continued.

"Mione!" Harry interrupted. "You're not causing me anything! I want to see you. I can practice Quidditch and study also. Now please, eat…"

Obediently, she grabbed an apple and began to chew as Harry continued to rub her back.

"By the way, Gin," Ron turned to her, "I didn't see you before curfew. Where were you?"

Ginny gulped. Now what? Would she tell him she's been spending the evenings in Malfoy's room and that she slept over last night? "I was studying for my semester exams but I fell asleep in the library."

"Madam Pince didn't wake you up?"

"Well, I was in the far back and she didn't see me until early morning."

Ron's eyebrows lifted. "Weird…"

"Ginny's in the right mindset…" Hermione breathed. "And her tests aren't as…as…"

            Ron sighed. "Hermione, as your friend, I'm telling you to shut up. You're going to have a heart attack."

            "Mione, do me a favor," Harry asked. "Don't talk. Just eat breakfast."

            Hermione whimpered and continued with her meal. 

            Maybe it was a good thing Draco didn't take her to Hermione's last night.

            "Aren't you uncomfortable with your robes on?" Ginny asked.

            Draco was lounged on his bed, hand propping his head up. His transfiguration text was open in front of him. "No. It's cold."

            Ginny sat with her robes flung over the chair's back. The fire and the warming charm she cast in the room were more than sufficient to make it feel like it was spring. "You're crazy."

            Draco glanced at her and then continued reading. He stifled a yawn.

            "Tired?" she noticed. "Should I leave?"

            "No," he answered. Wait; did that sound like he wanted her to stay? He couldn't have her think that. "I'm not tired," he soon added.

            "But you yawned."

            "So?" He squint his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

            Ginny got up from her chair, dropping _Les Miserables_ on it. She pulled his textbook towards her. "Where did you leave off?"

            "Paragraph 4," he told her.

            "You've been studying every night all week. You need to relax."

            "No," Draco said again. He rolled over on his back. 

            Ginny sighed. She began to read where he left off. Who cares if she was sitting on his bed? Who cares if his dreams stopped? Who cares if she was reading to him? He was just so tired. Between studying, he had homework, Ginny's visits and Quidditch. Snape would resume his teacher's aide duties after the start of the new semester.

            He listened to her read and for a few brief moments, Draco could see his mother, sitting close to him in bed, reading a book to him. Her platinum hair was loosely gathered in a braid, with its tail draping over her shoulder. She was wearing a dark violet night robe, her silver jewelry sparkling in response to the fire. Her voice was soft as candlelight, dulling his senses until they became one large blur.

            He turned and kept his eyes ½ open. Ginny sat, in her school uniform, her gold and red tie askew on her white collar. The book sat on top of her lap, lying right over her pale legs. Ginny's fire-red hair was free; its ends passed her shoulders. 'Just rest my eyes for a few moments,' he said to himself, closing his eyelids.

            Ginny looked up from her reading and noticed Draco's sleeping form. She shook her head, a smile lightly touching her pink lips. Ginny suddenly recalled when Penelope Clearwater, Percy's girlfriend, paid a visit to the Burrows a few years back. Percy had fallen asleep right next to her. Her mother had later explained that when you are comfortable with someone, you put all your defenses down. At the age 13, she didn't really understand it, but now… 'I wonder if Draco thinks that way…or anything remotely close to it…'

            She made a face, seeing that sleeping in school robes could be uncomfortable. She unclasped the robes and gently pulled his left arm out of it. As she did, Ginny noticed markings on his forearm. She pulled his sleeve higher to examine it. The marks were dark, brown burns: a skull with a snake coming out of its mouth. Quickly she pulled his robes over his arm, removing the ugly sight. The blood escaped from Ginny's body and she fell to the floor.

            Draco woke with a start. It took a few moments for his vision to clear. By then, Ginny had scrambled to the door. "What's the matter with you, Red?"

            "S…St…" she stammered, hands clasped on the doorknob. She used it to pull herself up.

            "What?" Draco got off his bed. 

            Ginny scrambled to open the door. "Stay away, stay away!" she demanded. She bolted out of the room and through the hall. Ginny ran without looking back.

            Draco hurried to the doorway. "Hey!" he screamed. "Virginia!" he called her. "Virginia, get back here!"

            The door across the hall flew open. "Malfoy," Hermione shook, trying to contain her composure. "Please, stop--." She turned in the direction he was staring at. She could see a figure at the end of the hall, running faster, getting smaller from view. "Who was that?" she asked Draco.

            He just slammed the door shut in response. What the hell got into her? One minute she was reading to him, the next she ripped out of the room as if he were diseased. He paced, in front of the fire, but nothing logical came to mind. What had caused her to run?

~*to be continued*~

Author's jibberish (again): Agh, that was fun, wasn't it? =)

Poem that Draco reads to her is "Annabelle Lee" by Edgar Allan Poe…his work is so great! 

Oh yah, my disclaimer… all characters and original storylines are of JKR…yah…ok, I know you all knew that.


	5. Chapter 5: Questioning

As Thou Being Mine

Chapter 5: Questioning

Author's jibberish: I kinda left you guys with a cliffie. Sorry, but hey, you're here now aren't you? 

I'm surprised about the response I received for the last chapter…People weren't threatening my life to post, which is always a good thing…agh…This chapter goes out to the patient reviewers of chapter 4 (SVZ, you always manage to say such nice things! =D)

_            He said he didn't want to be one. But he is. He is. Draco is. Draco is a deatheater. All this time, I've been in closed quarters with a follower of You-Know-Who. He could have killed me. He didn't. Why not? I'm against his Master. His father hates my family. He's supposed to hate me too! Why doesn't he?_

            It was a week after Ginny saw the Dark Mark on his arm. It had been burned in her memory. Every time Ginny saw Draco, an image of the Mark would flash in her mind and she would run far away from him. 

            Her first thought was to tell Hermione but seeing how she was such a spaz-case…Telling Ron was pointless, and the same results would ensue with Harry. She thought of telling Professor McGonagall, but what if she had to make a thorough explanation? That meant revealing she was in the Head Boy chamber at such a late hour. Then, Professor Dumbledore came to mind. He wouldn't ask questions; he'd just listen.

            Ginny made a decision as she walked to the school's kitchen. Right after all the semester tests, she would march up to Dumbledore and tell him.

            _"Yes, let's tell him…it's like signing a death sentence if I say no."_

_            "It's a death sentence to join You-Know-Who."_

_            "Well, then I'll perish either way."_

            Something didn't fit.

            She wasn't in the Great Hall. Draco kept watch at the Gryffindor table. He noticed that she had done everything to avoid him, from running in his opposite direction to stop visiting the library. She even stopped coming over. What started off as a blackmail scheme turned into routine evenings for him. His stomach was heavy. He had his Defense Against the Dark Arts book open, but he was paying no attention to it. While everyone around him was studying frantically, he was not too concerned. He has had a week of sleepless nights; he occupied that with facts, remedies, and incantations. 

            The weight shifted beside him. He sideglanced and saw Pansy, her nose scrunched up in disapproval. "Malfoy…"

            "Parkinson…"

            She lowered her voice. "I saw you."

            "And unfortunately, no one can miss you. Not with that face," Draco growled. "Don't you need to study?"

            "I saw you and Weasley's sister."

            Draco gave her his full attention, still trying to keep his most annoyed Malfoy face. "What in blazes are you grunting about?"

            "You know exactly--."

            "I suggest you should do something better with your time than make up stories," Draco snapped. "God knows you need to keep your grades up."

            Blotches of red anger appeared on her face. She heaved, and then stormed off.

            It was the last finals day and Ginny couldn't take it any longer. The only thing keeping her from exploding was considering the fact that telling Dumbledore would come soon. She just needed to finish her last final…Potions.

            She was definitely ready. She stopped reading _Les Miserables_ for a week. In fact, she forgot it in his room, along with her robe. She had been borrowing one from her housemate, Crissy Bockson. All her attention was to her finals, regardless of her need to read Victor Hugo's words. 

            The dungeon began to fill with Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. It was a comforting thought that she didn't have Potions with Slytherin…Poor Ron. Snape was really quite biased.

            Snape stormed in, black robes flying as he quickly made his way across the room. He headed straight to the black board and scribbled instructions in his chicken-scratch print. Then he turned to the class. "You have one and ½ hours." He sat behind his desk and busied himself with papers.

            From what Ginny could understand, it instructed to make 3 specific potions, and label them with the student's name. The student was asked to write down all the steps, collect qualitative data, write down properties of ingredients used, what the results were when those ingredients combined, and finally a guess of what type of potion it would be. Ginny's eyebrows furrowed. She could just imagine the 7th years' final. It was a mock NEWT after all. How long was the stick up his ass this very moment?

            The results of her potions were a red one, a yellow one and a murky grey. Hopefully, that was what they were supposed to be. She glanced around and saw some had the same results. One particularly smart Ravenclaw boy had a red, gold, and silver. Ginny gulped. She was near the end of her parchment, finishing up the last potion's data. Snape had been stalking around for 15 minutes, criticizing some results. 

            "More marigold," he said to a Gryffindor's green solution. "Too much sea moss," he told a Ravenclaw. Then he approached Ginny's desk. 

            Ginny looked up, and gulped, as he eyed her vial creations. He looked as though he was mentally evaluating them, with the way his brow furrowed. "P…Professor?" she muttered. 

            Then he turned to her. "Time is up!" he said, very loudly.

            It made Ginny jump. In response, everyone stood, placing their vials on the counter where it was instructed. Ginny looked down at her paper; she had stopped at mid-sentence. She was about to continue it.

            "I said time, Miss Weasley!" he bellowed.

            Defeated, she put her quill down and collected her vials and placed them in the counter. She placed her parchment on the already made stack on his desk. Ginny collected her things and bolted out the room.

            _Tell Dumbledore, tell Dumbledore…_

            A hand clasped her at her hip. Before she shrieked in panic, a voice hissed, "Don't dare open your mouth. Walk if you know what's good for you."

            Panic washed over her as her ears absorbed Draco's voice. She did walk in a steady rhythm. "Turn left," he instructed, "go to my room."

            They walked past a group of first year Hufflepuffs. Ginny thought of running for dear life. That'd be good…Dumbledore's office wasn't that far from the Head-Students' Wing. 

            Her pace began to quicken until she felt a tug on her robes. "Don't," he warned her. She felt something poke her back, causing her trunk to arch. His wand was pushing against her spine. He was holding her at wand-point. She had no choice.

            They came forward to his too familiar door. He said his password and the door creaked open. Draco gently touched the door and it shut slowly. He pulled her towards the fireplace. "Here," he said, handing her the robes she left.

            Ginny took it, her eyes on his left arm, still imagining the mark. "Th-Thanks." Quickly, she turned but caught her breath when Draco caught her left wrist…with his left hand. 

            "What happened last week?" he asked.

            Slowly she turned to him. "I…" her eyes kept glancing at his arm, no matter how hard she forced herself to look in his eyes.

            "You what?" he then noticed Ginny's eyes weren't on his face, like they usually were when they talked. "What's the matter with you? What are you looking at?"  
            "N-Nothing," she lied, her eyes glued at his arm and then briefly glancing at his face. She decided to look down, hoping that would stop her wandering sight. No matter what she did, her eyes darted to his left arm.

            Draco's eyes followed hers to his arm. Then he looked at Ginny, realization crossing his face. "You…saw it."

            "Saw what?" she turned to her robes that were draped over her arms. The loose threads were all of a sudden very interesting.

            "The mark on my arm."

            She paled again and she snapped her wrist out of his grasp. "I don't know what you're talking about. Now if you excuse me…" she headed straight for the door.

            Draco sped up to her and slammed his hand against the door, preventing her from leaving. Ginny took a deep breath. Her body faced the door, and Draco stood close, his breath against her neck. "You're a terrible liar, Red." He moved closer to her, removing his hand from the door. "You're scared of me?"

            She looked down and didn't answer. She couldn't bear to look up at him. Her eyes ran down to the doorknob. "What do you want to hear?"

            "I want your answer."

            "You're…you're a Death-eater," she managed to whisper. "You…lied."

            "I never said I wasn't."

            She turned to him. "But you said you didn't care to be one!"

            "Yes--."

            "Then how--?"

            "Not everything is definite, Red!" he exclaimed. "Not everything is in simple black and white!"

            "Did your father force you to be a Death-eater?" she asked. "Is that it then?"

            "No, I went willingly!" he admitted. "It was my duty and honor to join!"

            Ginny couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Then why--?"

            "Things change," he admitted, stepping back. "You should know that. You come to my chambers every night, seeking help in your reading."

            "Not anymore," she muttered, walking towards the fireplace.

            "Yes, not anymore. And why is that? Because being in company of a Death-eater makes your stomach turn?" Draco hissed. "Fine, go ahead: let it all out but don't expect me to hold your hair back."

            "I…I don't know why I ran," she told him. "All I know is that I saw the Mark and it scared me."

            "It was natural to do," he said.

            She nodded in shame. They stood silently, not uttering a word in from of the fire. "How… how old were you?" she asked. "When did you join?"

            "New Years Eve, when I was 16…last year. I was going to sacrifice my life to the Dark Lord," he said, staring into the fire.

            "What happened? You joined willingly… What changed?"

            "And why should I tell you?" he turned his attention to Ginny, stepping up to her. "So you can run your mouth to Dumbledore like the good little Weasley you are? Think you might get a special little reward for some service you did to mankind?"

            "Dammit Draco!" Ginny closed her eyes and stomped her foot. "I just want to know!"

            "And why should you care what is going on?!"

            "Because I do!" she exclaimed but then immediately covered her mouth with her hands. Then she pulled them away and muttered, "I…I thought we were friendly, at least…"

            He shook his head. "You wouldn't like it."

            "Whatever happened made you not want to be a Death-eater," she responded. "How could I not?"

            He turned away from her, hand on the mantle, with his eyes on the fire. "Do you remember a girl named Angie Wells? She was in Ravenclaw, I think."

            Ginny nodded. "Yes, she's in my year…or at least she was last year. Her grandparents transferred her to Durmstang because her parents died. But what--?" Ginny gulped as Draco looked up at her. "You mean, you…?" she weakened and sat back, letting the chair catch her.

            "Her parents were my first assignment. It was the first time I ever touched the green light and the moment I did…I was addicted," he told her. "I was looking forward to my next assignment. I couldn't help but think of all the wizards I could kill and that I would show I was more powerful than them."

            Ginny's fingertips dug in her skirt.

            "Then, my next assignment was a muggle couple whose child attended Beauxbatons," he turned and sat down on the chair next to her. "Sure they were mere muggles so I thought to enjoy it all the same. They were running like little spiders; I found a delight in their fear. But at the same time, they were muggles, they had no means of defense. But a job was a job. So, I killed the father first. Then I killed the mother; her back was turned to me, she didn't have time to see her attacker. As I was ready to leave, I heard a cry. When I looked down, there was a baby, whining right next to her mother's lying dead form."

            "Oh god…tell me you didn't…" Ginny whimpered.

            "I could lie and say the Dark Lord didn't come to me and told me to finish it off," Draco murmured. "I could say the child is living well, playing in the snow the very moment we speak." He scoffed. "After that, everything changed. I did," he looked up and saw Ginny wiping away her tears. "What the hell are you crying for? If anything, I should be…"

            "Why aren't you?"

            "The strong will live, the weak will die," he declared. "I refuse to be weak and roll over."

            "No," Ginny disagreed. "I refuse to believe that. If you tell Dumbledore, he'll understand--."

            "Let's tell the Headmaster," Draco sneered. "Then the Aurors will start investigations, I'll be thrown into Azkaban for my crimes, and the Dementors will have a hay day kissing the life out of me…literally!" Draco sprang to his feet, eyes burning into her. "I'm 17 years old, Red. I see what that place has done to my colleagues." 

            "So, Draco Malfoy does have a fear, even if he won't admit it." She looked up at him and immediately apologized. "I'm sorry, Draco. I… I wish I could help."

            He shrugged. "There's nothing more that can be done."

            "What about Christmas? Do you think you'll be assigned…jobs?" she put it lightly. 

            "More than likely," he said casually.

            "So you won't try to escape?" she asked. 

            "Say I do find a way out, with my body still active and unhexed. What is there to escape to?"

            "Friends?"

            "Children of my father's associates."

            "Family?"

            "My father's love is dignity and honor. My mother's love is silence."

            Ginny's heart sank. He really did have no one to turn to. "Are you leaving the same day as everyone else?"

            He shook his head. "Tonight, at 8 o'clock pm. The earlier train."

            "Why so early?"

            "Father's wishes. He said to get there as soon as possible."

            Ginny frowned. They could be plotting something. That would mean a muggle-born, an auror family or a ministry family will start off the new year with a death. Draco has killed 5 people within one year. Maybe more. "I see…" Ginny's mind clouded as she headed to the door. "Happy holiday, Draco."

            He watched her exit his room. It was very anti-climactic. There was no throwing things or constant screaming. But he told her; he let out what has happened. At least, he only told her the baseline. Who knows what her reaction would have been if he told her everything. 

            These were dark times in the wizarding world, with Voldemort's underground rising. How long will it take until the hand of fate catches up to him?

            Draco took a deep breath and fell back in his chair. He was a 17 year old boy. He was responsible for 5 lives; one was a few weeks old. He was 17 years old and he already killed 5 people and tortured many. He took a deep breath.

            Draco noticed that when she left, the room dimmed.

…~*to be continued*~ …


	6. Chapter 6: Thoughtful

As Thou Being Mine

Chapter 6: Thoughtful

Author's jibberish: Draco killed a baby! Agh!! Ok, I know that was absolutely horrid of me, but I thought about it and said, "There are a lot of stories with Death-eaters killing Ministry officials. Let's do something different…" It made me kinda depressed for a while, but it's ok so long as Draco learned his lesson, right?

            _Tonight, I left for home. I'm on the train right now on this very moment. _

_            Are all promises meant to be kept? I've had this habit of breaking them all because none of them were important. I just agreed to the terms so the person would just shut up. I have made promises to many girls, agreeing to see them again and such nonsense. I often break my promises without care. But this girl…_

_            This time I didn't make a promise to her because I know I'd break it. This time, it was different…_

            Draco shut his trunk and locked it close. He mentally checked off items in his head: underwear, pants, shirts, robes, socks, shoes, textbooks, pocketbooks, wand…He tied his cloak tighter around his neck. He pulled up his trunk on its side and moved it towards the door. He checked the grandfather clock, ticking near the bathroom door. The carriage would pick him up at 7:30. It was now 7:15.

            Ginny entered Gryffindor Tower, facing low to the floor. The Fat Lady even asked her to repeat the password 3 times. Then the portrait lectured her about speaking up, which Ginny ignored, and she dragged herself into the common room.

            People were running around, beginning to pack. Hermione, Harry, and Ron were some of the few staying for the holidays. Many were going home, like Draco. But unlike them, he would be leaving tonight.

            Harry and Hermione sat on the couch, napping, while Ron and Seamus were playing chess. Ginny put her robes down and untied the one she was wearing. 

            " 'Lo Gin," Ron greeted, not looking up.

            "Hello."

            "Where have you been?"

            "Walking." Ginny took a seat on the chair closest to the fire. After she left Draco's room, she was walking around the castle. At times, she wanted to cry, because she did not know what was to come. They were still cordial to each other; she used the word 'friendly.' Of course, that word's root is 'friend.' Is that what she was to him? Draco did tell her some dark secrets; did that mean he trusted her or did he just need to release all that weight on his shoulders? And if they were friends, will they continue to be once he comes back? Out of all the questions streaming through her head, one stood out among the rest: What will happen once he returns?

            Ginny couldn't wait for an answer. She had to know now. So, she ran out of the common room, leaving a very bewildered Ron and Seamus.

            Draco tucked his hands into his pockets. He stood alone, and the grand doors, with his trunk beside him as he waited for the carriage. He was beginning to dread the upcoming Christmas. He could see it now:

            On Christmas morn, Draco would go downstairs for breakfast. He would sit on his father's right side while his mother would sit across. They would eat in proper silence. Then Mother would ask about school, Pansy, grades, Pansy, Quidditch, Pansy…as much as he loved his mother, she didn't have a clue on how annoying Parkinson's girl really was. Their day would be separated from each other, as usual, until late afternoon when they attend the Ministry's Christmas Gala. Draco, this year, will be standing among his father's associates, along with Crabbe and Goyle. And a few days before school returns, the Dark Lord will contact him…

            He turned as he heard running footsteps, originating from inside the castle. He saw a figure, dressed in her grey vest and skirt. Her red hair gave away who she was.

            Ginny stopped in front of Draco and suddenly bent over, panting, trying to catch her breath. Her freckles had disappeared, and her face had turned rosy due to her running.

            Draco looked down to her. "What?" he asked, although it sounded harsher than it should have been.

            After her breathing calmed, she looked up and spoke. "Draco…I…the deal is off."

            "What deal?"

            "That you help my reading and no one knows about your feelings towards…" Ginny frowned, "work."

            Draco almost smirked. "So you caved?" He was free. Now, if only he could suppress this sense of dread in his stomach…

            "Because of…circumstance."

            "Pity for me?"

            She shook her head.

            Snow began to descend softly from the sky.

            The carriage pulled up in front of Draco. "I told you that you're a terrible liar." He hauled the trunk into the carriage.

            "It's just that I want to be able to see you after Christmas. You know, minus obligations."

            That made Draco freeze. "What?" he said, turning to her. "You still want to talk to me after everything you know? Any normal person would have run to save their life…" he almost snickered. "You're an idiot."

            Ginny sighed. "All I know is that I like spending time with you. It was…nice."

            This made Draco panic…as much as a Malfoy could. She wanted to spend time with him and the more insane part was that he did too. "I don't know." He watched Ginny's eyes fall. "You want me to make a bargain of some sort? Because I--."

            "No bargain, then," Ginny said. "No strings attached. When you return, I'll talk to you. If you refuse to see me again, tell me then. Alright?"

            Draco narrowed his eyes. It sounded as if she was setting herself up. "I don't have to make any promises to you; it's not like we're lovers or anything."

            She smiled and the look she gave him wavered his defenses. "No promises; it's just two people, where one just wants the other's company."

            It was very out of character for Draco. He reached out and touched her cheek. He used his thumb to gently brush away the snowflakes from her eyelashes. Ginny immediately warmed under Draco's touch. And the way he looked at her…What was he thinking? Would he hit her? Laugh? Kiss her, maybe?

            As quickly as he touched her, he pulled back and retreated into the carriage. It rode off towards the Hogmeade station and he took one last glance at her before turning away.

            Draco's train ride was tedious. Being alone gave him a chance to think about the future. Where will he be in one year from now? Will he be like his father with riches and power to set him for life? Or will he be in Azkaban, wasting away at the mercy of the dementors? Did Red fit anywhere there? Draco shook his head. That was a strange thought…

            He was picked up and taken straight to the mansion. When he arrived, a house-elf wearing a faded pink pillowcase took his trunk. "Hello, Young Master. Your father is waiting for you in his upper study. Tis urgent, young Sir."

            Draco nodded. He headed up the stairs and stood before the first door on the right. He knocked gently until his father gave him permission to enter.

            The room was dimly lit, with only the fireplace giving light to the room. Lucius Malfoy sneered, sitting in his chair behind the mahogany desk, skimming through sheets of paper on his desk. An angry vein seemed to pop out of his forehead, along the hairline of his snow white long hair. Draco could sense something was wrong. 

            Lucius looked up. "Ah Draco. Welcome home." He held out his hand, signaling his son to sit on a chair in front of the desk. "How has school been?"

            "Easy," Draco told him. "I just finished the practice NEWT's today."

            "See what happens when you apply yourself. Your studies are getting better I take it," Lucius folded the paper on its creases. "Any other things that are interesting?"

            Draco thought for a few moments. A sudden image of a certain red-head girl came to mind. He swallowed. "No, other than my upcoming Quidditch game against Ravenclaw, that's all."

            "I see," Lucius stood up from his desk and settled in front of Draco, leaning against his desk. "Studies, Quidditch…is there anything else occupying your time?"

            Alright, something was definitely wrong and Draco could feel it. "Head boy duties, but that--."

            Lucius then threw a piece of folded parchment on Draco's lap.

            Confused, Draco turned to his father. His father's lip twitched, as if trying to suppress anger. Slowly and thoughtfully, he unfolded the paper before him and began to read. Draco's jaw clenched, holding back the boiling emotions inside him.

_Dear Mr. Malfoy,_

_            I am a student at Hogwarts and I bear news about your son, Draco Malfoy. The news I have will come as a shock, as it did for me, for I am in the same house as Draco and have been thought to share the same virtues._

_            Draco has been spotted more than once in the company of Arthur Weasley's daughter. The first time I was a witness to it was about a month ago when they were engaging in a snowball fight. Soon, it was followed by her visits to his Head Boy chambers. She would go there after dinner and not come out until two or three hours later._

_            I would not fib or tell lies to you, Sir, as I have the utmost respect for you. I am an individual who is concerned about Draco's choices. Enclosed are pictures as proof of what I claim. I am hoping that by telling you will help Draco keep his ethics and priorities._

_Thank you for your time,_

_Anonymous_

            Anonymous my ass, Draco sneered. He knew Pansy's writing anywhere. "This person is an idiot."

            "Really?" Lucius slammed his hand down on his desk and spread 3 shots across the edge: Draco and Ginny in the snow, Draco and Ginny in the library, and the two of them right outside his room. "I thought I raised you better," Lucius growled.

            Draco was silent. He couldn't say anything.

            "I am quite relieved that our master hasn't found out. If he did…" Lucius tisked. "So much dishonor…"

            Draco just stared at the pictures, especially the one with him smirking at her in front of his room. Oh, this did not look good. 

            "I have worked very hard to give you a good life," Lucius hissed. "If you mess this life up for cheap sex-capades, you will pay dearly…along with your friend."

            He must be joking! Sex with Little Red? Not that the idea never crossed Draco; especially around the time she slept in his bed. When she turned over to her side her skirt rode up her leg slightly, revealing her creamy thighs…Needless to say, Draco would never really have sex with her!

            Lucius had just threatened Draco's well-being…and Ginny's as well. All she wanted was a person to help her understand Shakespeare. She truly was innocent.

            "You do not need distractions, especially now," Lucius collected the photos, snatched the letter from him and locked them in his desk. "Our Dark Lord will be coming soon with a mission. If you do not get rid of your unnecessary distractions, mark my words, I will in my own way."

            Draco stood from his chair and stared at his father. He used to look up to Lucius, figuratively and literally. Now, they were almost at equal height and all Draco saw was a hypocritical insane man's lackey…he refused to fall at his father's level. Yet, his father's groveling gave his name respect and power…and his family's fortune contributed to it all, as well. Lucius Malfoy, who Draco once thought of as a god, was making threats. And the most frightening concept was that they were not idle. 

            Draco left the study.

            Draco sat up against his headboard, the silk black sheets draped over his lap. He was already dressed for bed: satin pajama bottoms. Tonight, it was dark violet. His hair was tousled, not slicked back in his usual fashion. And no one knew he wore thin, silver reading glasses. He refused to wear reading glasses during class and would only wear them in private in his own quarters…unless Ginny stopped by. He didn't wear them with anyone around, besides his family. The last thing he wanted was to be compared to that damn Potter…

            He looked up from his book as his door opened. A woman stood at the doorway, wearing a dark burgundy robe and matching slippers. Her long platinum hair was draped over her left, shoulder, gathered in a black ribbon. He returned to his book.

            Narcissa Malfoy took the liberty to sit at the edge of his bed, close to him. She didn't smile or show pity when she said "Your father told me about the letter."

            "Did he now?" Draco kept his eyes on the pages in front of him.

            Narcissa placed her hand over his forearm, her fingers grazing over the Dark Mark. "Aren't you happy, Draco?" The way she looked at him was as if this unfortunate incident was her fault.

            "What's wrong, Mother?" It all puzzled him.

            "It's just…by following your father's path, you'll live very comfortably. Don't you want that?"

            Did she have any idea what Death-eaters really do?

            "Draco, Darling, I just want you to be proud of who you are: a Malfoy. We are deemed important in the wizarding world," Narcissa explained. "And your father has provided for us so we can be happy. I hope you will do the same for your family as well."

            My family? Draco pondered. "Mother, I'm only 17--."

            "And there will be a time when an heir must be established," she said. "And from what I hear, Parkinson's girl is not a suitable woman to bear your child. At least, not in your view."

            Was this the version of 'the talk'? "Very funny Mother."

            She smirked, something he hadn't seen in a while. "You didin't answer me, Darling. Are you happy?"

            "I serve for my master's mission to better my own life," Draco said. "Why shouldn't I be?"  
            Narcissa frowned. "Don't get smart with me. You may be a man already but I am your mother." She looked down at his lap to see the book he was paying his attention to. She lifted it so the spine was in her vision. "Nice choice, Darling. 'Two houses, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona where we lay our scene…' It's…fitting, don't you agree?"

            Draco narrowed his eyes and slammed the book shut. "Mother, don't you dare--."

            "I didn't say anything," she said. "Do you remember the first time I read this book to you?" When he remained silent, she continued. "You were six, I believe. You found it and demanded me to read it. You were incredibly fixated with this story; I never understood why. It was about the love of two teenagers; why on earth would it matter to a 6 year old child? I never understood your obsession for this story. Until…"

            Draco raised an eyebrow. "Until…?" he was nervous to hear her finish the sentence.

            She looked at him, her ice-blue eyes into his steel ones. "Until you were displayed with a choice." She stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Draco, I think you should make a wise choice: for your well-being." She turned and walked away.

            "Goodnight, Mother," he called as she opened the door to exit.

            She smiled softly; something else he hasn't seen in a while. "Goodnight, Darling." She closed the door behind her. 

            Draco opened up his book again. He couldn't help but pity the woman. As much as he loved her, there were somethings she wasn't meant to know. It would break her heart. 

_I fear too early, for my mind misgives_

_Some consequence yet hanging in the stars_

_Shall bitterly begin its fearful date_

_With this night's revels, and expires the term_

_Of a despised life closed in my breast_

_By some vile forfeit of untimely death.___

            A stray blond bang fell in front of Draco's glasses. He quickly swept it aside.

            Ginny's face was burned in his mind.

…~*to be continued*~…

Author's jibberish (again): I know Narcissa was OOC, because I remember a description of her in GoF (during the Quidditch Tournament). She seemed really smug and stuff but for this fic, I softened the character. In a sense, Draco's harshness is due to Lucius while his humanity is due to Narcissa. Ok, I'm done talking. I'll just go back to typing the story now… -_-

Oh yeah, thanks to Shakespeare again…


	7. Chapter 7: Understanding

As Thou Being Mine

Chapter 7: Understanding

Author's jibberish: Sorry it took so long! Anyway, I have more of my stupid babbling at the end…

            _Christmas was smooth as silk. I was so scared that I wouldn't be able to get everyone a present because this year I added someone on my list: Draco Malfoy._

_            Yes, I got him a Christmas gift. The whole thought was absurd: me giving Draco Malfoy a present. What do you give to a wizard who could afford anything? But I did get him a little something, just to show my gratitude. I didn't dare to send it! Not while he's still at home! Who knows what complications will turn up if my present was to be seen by his parents? In any case, the train will be returning students today; class will begin tomorrow. _

_            I'm actually looking forward to seeing him…_

            Ginny's eyes filtered through the crowd, looking for a certain Slytherin blond. He stood out like a sore thumb…whatever that meant.

            And speak of the wizard, Draco walked through the door with his lips tight. He sat next to Crabbe, who stayed home for the holidays. They began a conversation, most likely about what each was up to. Then, Pansy Parkinson took her seat next to Draco. Ginny observed Draco tilt his body away from Pansy so he faced Crabbe more. Pansy continuously tried to get his attention but then Draco snapped at her, which caused Pansy to back off. What on earth did he say?

            Then, Draco peered up from his food. Did Ginny just imagine it or did he narrow his eyes at her? It was the strangest look. He quickly returned to talking with Crabbe.

            Ginny decided to visit him that night.

            Draco stared at the small box sitting on his bed. It was in brown wrapping with triple twine to finish it.

            He had just returned from his meal in the Great Hall. He saw Ginny and quickly looked away. He couldn't look at her in the eye: By New Years, his death count was 7: a couple that worked for Ministry Intelligence.

            He pulled off the card attached to the box and read it:

            To Draco, 

                        I hope you can catch up on lost hours with this. Happy Holiday!—Ginny

            Draco ripped open the wrapping. It was a box: "Snore tea!—Guaranteed to give you a full 9-hour sleep!"

            So, she knew he stayed up to study for his NEWTs. And she probably figured that he had a lack of sleep all holiday due to his…"on-call duties." It was one of the few 'thoughtful' gifts he's ever received…besides the books from his mother. Damn, she got him something…

            A knock came to the door. Draco placed his gift on the bed and headed to the door. Was it a student or a teacher? "Yes?" in case it was the latter. He opened it.

            "I can't believe you!" Pansy stormed in, right passed Draco. "How dare you treat me like that! I am not dirt under your feet!"

            "My feet aren't dirty," he rolled his eyes.

            But she ignored his comment. "I greet you 'hello' and you tell me to 'shove it'! What is your problem!?"

            "You are," he tossed the door close. "A little advice, Parkinson. If you're going to write an anonymous letter, disguise your writing."

            It took a few moments before she spoke. "What are you talking about?"

            "I saw the 'advice' you wrote to my father," he growled. "Yes, so glad you care."

            "Well I do," Pansy huffed. "And I didn't write the--."

            "Come off it! Even a Weasley is smart enough to disguise their writing. I know that sissy little cursive of yours anywhere!" 

            She sneered. "Figures you would mention a Weasley. I never knew she would be so important to you. You're a fool."

            "And you're a numb, brainless idiot," Draco insulted. "That's nothing new. Now get out before it spreads."

            "Why? Don't want me around by the time Raggedy-Ann comes?"

            A knock came to the door. Draco grabbed Pansy by the forearm and pulled her behind the door. "If you even breathe," he growled, pushing her against the wall, "I'll rip your lungs out through your mouth."

            Pansy bit her lip and Draco proceeded to open the door. 

            Just his luck, Ginny was standing at his door. A soft smile was on her face._ Oh god, don't give me that look… he silently pleaded._

            " 'Lo Draco," she greeted.

            He remained stationary, holding the door only ½ open.

            She cleared her throat. "Don't worry, I wasn't followed. I just want to see how you're doing." He remained silent, so she continued. "How was your vacation?" Ginny could feel the tension between them and it made her shift slightly.

            Draco analyzed the situation. Ginny wanted to spend time with him but Pansy was right there in his room. He knew he had to shut Pansy up for good. Maybe if he told Ginny he'd see her later…That wouldn't stop Pansy from running her mouth. Then he'd be in it for sure, as well as Ginny. He squeezed the doorknob harder. It had to be this way.

            "Are you trying to create small-talk?"

            "Um…in a way," Ginny stammered. "Do you remember what we discussed before you left--?"  
            Everyday.

            "Not really. It must have slipped my mind. Unimportant things do that to me."

            Ginny swallowed. "Are you alright?"

            "I'm perfect. Which is more than I can say about you," he chuckled.

            Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. Was this the same guy who gently touched her cheek, brushing the snowflakes away? "What's the matter with you?"

            "Nothing," and Draco gave his signature smirk. "You know, Weasel, it was fun but did you honestly think I would seriously want your company?" He laughed. "You did, didn't you? That sweet…"

            Ginny's jaw slightly dropped. "I…sorry I disturbed you."

            "Right. Now go and never bother to come 20 feet of me. You're a waste of perfectly clean air," and he slammed the door shut.

            Ginny stood, shocked. What had just happened? Two weeks ago, they were friendly. Now, she was vapor to him. Did something happen during his vacation? Why was he such a prick? Did she do anything? Why did he have such animosity towards her?

            Ginny realized she wandered through the portrait hole. The tears were already rolling down her face, staining her freckles.

            Ron, who was sitting on the common room couch, greeted her. "Hi, Gin--." He stopped the moment he saw her face. "What hap--!?"

            "Stop!" she exclaimed. "Stop Ron! Don't ask me what happened."

            "But--!"

            "Don't ask me how my day went, or where I was," she pleaded. "Don't ask me anything. Just sit there."

            Unsure of what to do, Ron just nodded. Ginny took the liberty of sitting next to him, and buried her face in his shoulder. Then she began to cry harder; all Ron could do was place a comforting arm around her.

            _You set yourself up, her mind scolded. __You have no one to blame but yourself._

            There were no obligations. She told him that. If he didn't want to continue talking to her, she told him to say so…and he did just that. There were no hidden agendas, no personal feelings involved. But she couldn't help feeling the emotions she got when he touched her cheek. It was electrical magic…it replayed in her mind every spare second since he left. No blackmail, bargains, or obligations…

            Ginny continued to cry. She had no idea it would hurt so much.

            She remained in bed, the covers up to her nose. Ginny did not want to go to school today. She didn't want to go to the breakfast table. She would just stay in her bed and not talk to anyone!

            Ginny frowned. She knew she had to get out of bed. If she didn't, Ron would beg her about what happened. Hermione would nag to her that school work would take her mind off things. Harry would probably go to her parents, telling them that their little girl had become a sobbing emotional wreck. What was the matter with her? Why was she moping about? It's not like they were lovers or anything! She was stronger than this!

            At the breakfast table in the Great Hall, Ginny took a seat next to Hermione, her back to the Slytherin table. Her eyes were puffy pink and her skin was pale. 

            "You alright now, Gin?" Ron asked.

            Ginny just smiled. She didn't want to say a word about it. It wasn't as if Malfoy was important. That's right, **Malfoy. He called her Weasel…so, make that Ferret-Breath. Ferret-Breath wasn't important. **

            A tawny owl swooped down over the Gryffindor table. In a quick flight, it dropped a parcel right in front of Ginny.

            "Strange…it's a bit late for presents," Hermione stated.

            Ginny nodded in agreement and pulled out the card. She opened it and her eyes widened: 

            To Red.

            Quickly, she stood and walked away, heading out to the statue of Godric Gryffindor. She took a seat right behind it and opened the card.

            To Red,

                        I know it's late for the holidays. Just try to understand.

            Ginny took a deep breath. Draco sent her a present for Christmas? What was the matter with him? Didn't he just completely shun her? She took a deep breath and pulled the paper off.

            It was the most exquisite book she ever saw. It was a red leather book with ivory framework on the cover. In gold writing, it read in old English calligraphy: "Shakespeare's Sonnets." She noticed a bulk in the book, as if something was wedged in the pages. When she opened it, she found a black faded hair tie. It took a few moments before she realized that was the one she lost in the snowball fight with Draco. Meaning he held onto it this whole time?

            Ginny read the sonnet to where it was opened at.

_Let me confess that we two must be twain_

_Although our undivided loves are one:_

_So shall those blots that do with me remain,_

_Without thy help, by me be borne alone._

_In our two loves there is but one respect,_

_Though in our lives a separable spite,_

_Which, though it alter not love's sole effect._

_Yet doth it steal sweet hours from love's delight._

_I may not evermore acknowledge thee,_

_Lest my bewailed guilt should do thee shame,_

_Nor thou with public kindness honour me,_

_Unless thou take that honour from thy name:_

_But do not so; I love thee in such sort_

_As thou being mine, mine is thy good report._

            After finishing those 14 lines, she took a deep breath. If the poem conveyed his feelings…

            She had to see him, no question. She wished she could. But she knew it would get more complicated if she did. Even thought he didn't speak a word, or explained anything, the poem seemed to tell her everything: he cared for her, but… However, it still hurt. Ginny couldn't ignore the slight pain in her chest.

            Ginny was running. She woke up late and was hustling her way to transfiguration.

            As she turned a corner into an empty hall, her bag ripped through the bottom. She muttered a curse under her breath and then got on her knees to collect her books. 

            Suddenly, Ginny looked up and saw those too familiar grey eyes looking at her. Draco was crouched beside her, picking up a small book. Ginny cradled the remaining books in her arms as she stood up. "Dra…Malfoy."

            Draco stood, looking at the book, then at her. He examined the red leather book. "Shakespeare's Sonnets," he said. "Are you reading this for Muggle History?"

            Ginny shook her head. "No. I carry it everywhere with me." She gave him a soft smile. "It's special to me."

            Draco raised an eyebrow, as if surprised slightly. He then smirked at her, placed the book on the pile towering in her arms and walked away.

~*Part One: As Thou Being Mine: Fin*~

Author's jibberish (again, because she just doesn't know when to shut the hell up): First order of business, that sonnet was #36…love that one! 

Second, I'd like to thank all the readers! I really enjoyed writing this fic. It was my first D/G chapter story, so I hope I delivered well enough and it was deemed as fair and honorable to the characters. After I finished this story, I felt kinda sad because it was the end of this story and I couldn't bring myself to let go of Drakey and Gin-Gin. 

_Ginny's head shot up. A tall, lean man, with silvery blond slicked back hair, stood. Loud wall-shaking cheers came from the Slytherin table while murmurs came from the other three._

_            "The hell…?" Colin gasped. "I don't believe it… It's Draco Malfoy."_

_            Something went a-flutter in Ginny's chest. Something swelled in anticipation as she set her eyes on her new teacher. But the light feeling turned into confusion because as he took a seat, his eyes turned to her. In his gaze was an unreadable expression._

~*Segment of Part Two: Undivided*~

So…problem solved.

And so ends GirlquinndreameR's shameless plug…-_-

But please, tell me what you think of 'As thou…' I'd appreciate it very much!


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